


From now until the end of time

by detective_terrible_detective



Series: Tales from Camelot and beyond [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - World War II, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:38:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detective_terrible_detective/pseuds/detective_terrible_detective
Summary: Dear Gwaine,This letter will never be sent. It will sit in a box, hidden from the years and gathering dust. One day, I'll join you, wherever you are. Until then, say hello to everyone for me.Or, Gwaine is away fighting in Europe and Merlin sends him a letter.





	From now until the end of time

_21/11/1941_

 

Dear Gwaine,

You’re dead. 

You’re dead and I wasn’t there. I couldn’t save you. 

They told me you died quickly, that there was no pain and you didn’t feel a thing. I want to believe them, but I saw your jacket. They sent it home, along with your things. It was full of bullet holes and soaked with blood. But, then again, you know this as well as I, better, even. You were there.

Three days after they told me, a letter from you came. I was so happy. I thought, they must have made a mistake. You aren’t dead after all. You escaped somehow, you’re alive. You’ll come back. 

The letter was dated to the day before you died.

It was a foolish hope, I know, but can you blame me? For wishing you were alive? Mithian told me that I was. She said: “Nothing you do will ever bring him back. None of your wishing, none of your hoping, none of your praying.” It was the first time I’ve ever wanted to hit her. I know I can’t bring you back, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing that I could.

When Percival was killed, I don’t think any of us fully realised what had happened—some of us still haven’t. He was the first person we lost to this beastly war, and we hoped he would the last. Of course, we’d hoped we wouldn’t lose anybody, but, like the fools we were, we still believed that wishes came true. When Morgana’s hospital ship was sunk, it was like Percival. None of us knew what had happened. She was supposed to be the safe one. She wasn’t fighting, she wasn’t killing anyone. She was saving lives ~~and we couldn’t save hers~~. When Lancelot was shot down, none of us could afford to fall apart. We had to be there for Gwen and baby Tom. We put our shock—yes, even after all the horrors the world had presented us with, we were still surprised—and our grief aside and we threw ourselves into helping them. When Elyan turned up in the hospital, we were all too busy worrying that he too would die of his wounds to be relieved. You asked me in your last—your very last, forever—letter how he was healing. His wounds are healing, but he caught a fever, and no one knows which way it will go.

Leon is missing. The news came several weeks after you, you know. I was at the cliff—you can put your fears aside, love, I would never—when Mithian found me. As she sat there, staring at the ocean, silent as a grave, her words from before came to me. “Nothing you do will ever bring him back,” she told me. I am not so cruel as to refuse comfort to a friend, but the memory stung nevertheless.

My single consolation is Arthur. He is still in America, doing whatever mysterious thing one does in America whilst there is a war in Europe, and he continues to write and complain about the lack of action, or how he “Should be fighting, not swanning around like some Princess.” In his most recent letter, he said that he was relocating to Hawaii, for whatever reason. A stranger reading may think me unkind or find me uncaring. I simply have no wish to address the elephant. And yet, it remains in the room. It can stay there a little while longer. 

Nimueh is knitting. I still wonder who thought that arming her—you will have no difficulty imagining what she could do with two rather sharp sticks—was a good idea. If the Germans ever do invade, they’d better watch out for her. Gwen tells me I shouldn’t joke about such things.

Mother is worried about me. Since the news came, she has taken it upon herself to monitor my every movement, as though she believes I will sign up myself. As though they would take me. Yet, I shouldn’t complain. Although she doesn’t know—and she will never know, as much as it pains me to say—she knows you were dear to me. And here the elephant rears it’s head again, aching to be acknowledged.

It rained all of last week. I jammed my finger in the door hinge. Mithian baked a cake—without eggs or butter. My mother finally cleaned out the old cupboard. Gaius’s sheep wandered away. And you died. It seems that the elephant is longer content to stamp and shriek its frustrations.

I know it isn’t my fault you’re dead. I know you would have gone, no matter what I said. I know that, had I been able to fight, nothing would be different. But I wish it was. I wish I could’ve stopped you. I wish I had been there to fight by your side. I wish you were here, to fill the hole you have left in my heart. I wish so many things, too many to name. But, above all, I wish you were alive. I don’t care that we can’t tell anyone, I don’t care that all the world sees is two friends. I don’t care about any of it. I just want you, here, with me. But I can’t have that. I can never have that.

Love,

 ~~Your Dearest~~ Merlin

P.S. This letter will never be sent. It will sit in a box, hidden from the years and gathering dust. Before you left, you told me never to sign my name. “It’s too dangerous. The risk of someone finding out about us is too high.” That was what you said. You made me promise I wouldn’t. I’m sorry to break the promise, but I wanted to. I wanted to write you a letter, and tell the truth, and sign it. To sign it as me. One day, I'll join you, wherever you are. Until then, say hello to everyone for me. Tell Lancelot that Tom said his first words. Tell Morgana that Nimueh never seats anyone else at the head of the table. Tell Percival that his roses bloomed last spring, finally. Most of all, remember that from now until the end of time, I love you. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually part of an original story I'm writing, but I was too lazy to think of character names, so I used the names from Merlin, and I ended up with this and was like why not publish it? Let me know what you thought of it, or if you think it's worth continuing into a full-length story!


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